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As Australia settles into for a customary Christmas holiday during languorous days of coast and scorching heat accompanied by the background of sporting matches and insect sounds, this year the nation's summer mood seems, unfortunately, like none before.

It would be a significant understatement to characterize the national disposition after the antisemitic violent assault on Australian Jews during Bondi Hanukah celebrations as one of mere discontent.

Across the country, but especially than in Sydney – the most iconically beautiful of the nation's urban centers – a tenor of immediate surprise, grief and terror is segueing to fury and bitter division.

Those who had not picked up on the frequently expressed fears of the Jewish community are now highly attuned. Just as, they are attuned to balancing the need for a much more immediate, energetic government and institutional fight against anti-Jewish hatred with the freedom to demonstrate against mass atrocities.

If ever there was a time for a national listening, it is now, when our belief in mankind is so sorely depleted. This is particularly so for those of us fortunate enough never to have experienced the animosity and fear of religious and ethnic targeting on this continent or elsewhere.

And yet the social media feeds keep churning out at us the trite hot takes of those with inflammatory, polarizing stances but no sense at all of that profound vulnerability.

This is a time when I lament not having a stronger faith. I mourn, because believing in people – in our potential for kindness – has let us down so acutely. A different source, a greater power, is needed.

And yet from the horror of Bondi we have witnessed such profound instances of human goodness. The courageous acts of ordinary people. The bravery of those present. Emergency personnel – police officers and paramedics, those who ran towards the danger to aid others, some recognised but for the most part anonymous and unheralded.

When the barrier cordon still waved wildly all about Bondi, the imperative of community, faith-based and ethnic unity was admirably promoted by religious figures. It was a call of love and acceptance – of unifying rather than dividing in a moment of antisemitic slaughter.

Consistent with the symbolism of the Festival of Lights (illumination amid gloom), there was so much fitting reference of the need for hope.

Togetherness, light and love was the message of belief.

‘Our shared community spaces may not appear exactly as they did again.’

And yet segments of the political landscape responded so nauseatingly swiftly with division, blame and recrimination.

Some elected officials moved straight for the darkness, using tragedy as a cynical chance to question Australia’s migration rules.

Observe the dangerous message of division from longstanding agitators of Australian racial division, exploiting the attack before the site was even cold. Then read the words of political figures while the investigation was ongoing.

Politics has a daunting job to do when it comes to uniting a nation that is grieving and frightened and seeking the light and, not least, answers to so many questions.

Like why, when the national terrorism threat level was judged as probable, did such a large public Hanukah event go ahead with such a woefully inadequate security presence? Like how could the accused attackers have multiple firearms in the family home when the security agency has so openly and repeatedly alerted of the threat of antisemitic violence?

How rapidly we were subjected to that cliched line (or iterations of it) that it’s individuals not weapons that kill. Of course, both things are valid. It’s possible to simultaneously seek new ways to stop hate-fuelled violence and prevent guns away from its potential perpetrators.

In this city of profound beauty, of clear blue heavens above sea and shore, the water and the beaches – our communal areas – may not seem entirely familiar again to the many who’ve noted that iconic Bondi seems so incongruous with last weekend’s horrific bloodshed.

We yearn right now for understanding and meaning, for loved ones, and perhaps for the solace of beauty in culture or the natural world.

This weekend many Australians are calling off Christmas party plans. Reflective solitude will seem more appropriate.

But this is perhaps counterintuitively counterintuitive. For in these days of fear, outrage, sadness, bewilderment and grief we require each other more than ever.

The comfort of community – the binding force of the unity in the very word – is what we likely need most.

But tragically, all of the portents are that cohesion in politics and society will be hard to find this extended, enervating summer.